


Lockdown Post-Script

by AmberDiceless



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Fluffish, Gen, Post-Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown, crowley is a dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23995033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberDiceless/pseuds/AmberDiceless
Summary: Another (short, silly) version of what happened next!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50





	Lockdown Post-Script

Fifteen minutes later, Crowley picked up the phone on the first ring, less surprised that it was happening than that Aziraphale hadn’t held out any longer. He’d expected it would be a couple of hours, at least. _“What?”_

_“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”_

A smirk worked its way inexorably across the demon’s face. “Angel,” he said mock-reprovingly, “name me one time in six thousand years that I’ve ever _made_ you say or do anything you didn’t want to?”

 _“Insufferable, that’s what you are,”_ Aziraphale said peevishly. _“Pitiless serpent.”_

“That’s me,” Crowley drawled, lounging indolently in his throne (which, he was beginning to suspect, had been built more for style than comfort. That was what he got for succumbing to whimsy or vanity, buying the damn thing just because it looked like the one the bloke on the telly1 had.) “So, _was_ there something you wanted to say?”

On the other end, Aziraphale heaved a put-upon sigh. Crowley didn’t have to see him to know exactly how he was rolling his eyes, and he could picture every detail of the exasperated look on his face.  


_“All right, fine._ Sod _the rules. Just...come on over, won’t you? July’s a long way off, and I...”_ Any further desire Crowley might have had to tease him promptly evaporated when the angel finished, softly and a bit forlornly, _“I miss you.”_

“Yeah, all right. On my way,” he said, jumping up and grabbing his sunglasses from the desk. “Anything special you want me to bring?” _  
_

_“Just yourself and something passable to drink. Oh, but--”  
_

“But?”He braced himself for anything from alengthy shopping list to a request that he pop in and miracle somebody’s pension cheque free from red tape on his way over. _  
_

_“Best pack for a stay.”_ As Crowley was too busy swallowing his own tongue to answer for a moment, Aziraphale added defensively after a pause, _“We really can’t have you bouncing back and forth across town until this is over.”_

“Ye--no! Right. No, absolutely, of course. Of course _not._ Understood. I’ll ju-- _gwaaahp”_ as he caught the coffee table with both shins and went arse-over-teakettle, scattering never-used remote controls and coasters everywhere.  


_“Crowley? Goodness, are you all right?! What happened?”_

“Fine. I’m fine,” he croaked, staring dazedly at the ceiling. “Be there in a jiffy.”

 _“All right.”_ Aziraphale sounded less than convinced. _“Mind how you go. And for goodness’ sake, don’t let anybody see you.”_

“Got it. _Ciao.”_ Crowley shut the phone off and struggled to his feet, snapping everything back into place as an afterthought, then turning to glare in the direction of a rather suspicious rustling sound. “Well? What are _you_ lot laughing at?” _  
_

The houseplants wisely went still, standing solemnly at attention as he stalked past them to gather his things. _  
_

_\---  
_

1\. [This bloke, specifically](https://pm1.narvii.com/5862/7569b96c7aad7773661c189f384e488f1eda7fa3_hq.jpg)  



End file.
